


Blame Fate

by Misanagi



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-21
Updated: 2006-04-21
Packaged: 2017-10-12 16:26:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/126822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misanagi/pseuds/Misanagi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exploration of the relationship through the five senses (sight, hearing, touch, smell and taste).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blame Fate

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://community.livejournal.com/stagesoflove/profile)[**stagesoflove**](http://community.livejournal.com/stagesoflove/)

**Sight**

It was a magazine photo. Paparazzi had gotten a shot of Quatre exiting a building, briefcase in hand, looking like the successful businessman he was. Heero ignored the article concentrating instead on the picture. Quatre's posture was rigid, his chin held high. Many could mistake that for arrogance, but Heero could read Quatre better, it was annoyance. There were bags under Quatre's eyes and he was pale, probably working too much and not getting enough sleep.

Heero looked at the small picture of the five of them he kept in his wallet, focusing on Quatre's smile, and made a decision.

 

 **Hearing**

"Quatre Winner."

"You sound busy."

"… Heero? Is that you? Why is there no visual?"

"It's an old phone. You still recognize my voice."

"Of course I do." Pause. "I've missed it."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, just…"

"You can say it, Quatre."

"Just don't disappear again."

Silence.

"Where are you?"

"Europe, but I'm not staying. This isn't the place for me."

Soft sigh. "Are you… are you leaving again?"

"I was thinking of going to L4, if that's okay with you."

"Yes!" Chuckle. "I mean, I would like to see you. It's been too long."

"I know."

"I'll be waiting."

 

 **Touch**

The first thing Quatre did when Heero walked up to him on the shuttle port was hug him. There were no words, just Quatre's arms around him, pulling them closer together, and his hands patting Heero's back softly. Quatre's chin was resting lightly on Heero's shoulder, some golden locks tickling Heero's cheek.

Heero dropped his bags and put his arms, awkwardly, around Quatre's waist. He could almost feel Quatre's skin through the silk shirt. Curious, he moved his fingers up and down Quatre's back and leaned his head, touching his cheek to Quatre's.

For whatever reason, it felt perfectly natural.

 

 **Smell**

Quatre's home was like a hotel room: elegant, inviting and impersonal. It was Quatre's house but Quatre's scent was missing. The study was the exception. There weren't pictures on the walls, like in Quatre's room, but Heero could sense the faint aroma of Quatre's cologne as soon as he opened the door, and smell Quatre's shampoo on the head of the leather chair behind the desk.

That night, Heero and Quatre stayed up, talking, in the living room. And the next day, when Quatre left for work, Heero could still smell Quatre's aftershave on the cushions.

It was a start.

 

 **Taste**

Quatre arrived home from work before nine. Dinner wasn't ready. Heero had just finished his workout and was resting on the couch. He hid a smug smile behind the glass of juice he was drinking, and scooted over to make room for Quatre.

"It's 7:45," Heero pointed out.

"Tomorrow it will be 7:00."

Heero raised an eyebrow. "Why the change of schedule?"

Quatre loosened his tie and sat next to Heero, their shoulders touching. "You gave me a taste of home, of you, and I rather like it."

Heero pressed a kiss on Quatre's lips and smiled. Home tasted wonderful.


End file.
